Let's Dance
by Beertree
Summary: Bluestreak hates silences. Jazz helps to fill them. Slightly slashy.


Bluestreak hated silence. He hated the way the silence would worm it's way into his mind and make him do the one thing he tried to avoid. It made him think, and it made him remember. Perhaps it was the thinking and remembering that he hated but it was silence that triggered the thinking and remembering so that's what he blamed. Normally, he would seek out company and start a conversation. He'd discovered long ago that talking dispelled the silence meaning that he didn't have to think much when he talked. Fighting Decepticons also chased away the silence, but he didn't like that much better than the actual silence, as his audio receptors were usually filled with the screams and threats and other unpleasant sounds of the battlefield. It kept him busy, as well which didn't allow much thinking and remembering.

Today, however, he stood in the middle of his quarters alone and surrounded by silence. Most of the Autobots were out fighting the Decepticons and those that had drawn monitoring duty couldn't be disturbed. He was stuck at the Ark because Ratchet hadn't yet cleared him for active duty after his last injury.

He stretched and fingered his side to test the injury's progress and winced slightly. As much as he hated to admit it, Ratchet was probably right not to send him out too soon.

Pacing now, he let his feet hit the floor with a bit more force than was necessary just to listen to them clang loudly. He probably could've talked out loud, but it was a habit he didn't really want to get into. A lot of the Autobots didn't think much of mechs who talked to themselves even in the privacy of their own quarters.

He stomped about in his room for a while before finally admitting to himself that it was boring and not particularly helpful. Despite the noise and the movement his mind had begun to fill with undesirable thoughts again.

He shook himself hard, and realized that he wasn't going to get much distraction by staying in his quarters. The lounge had a tv and Energon. It would be deserted but he could turn on the tv and crank it up as loud as it would go. It didn't matter what was on just so long at it was loud.

The Ark's passageways were just as silent and empty as his room. And a whole lot creepier, he thought with a shiver. He hurried along, listening to his clanging footsteps echo down the corridor. When he realized that his footsteps had taken on a rhythm he stopped. The floor was vibrating, almost undetectable at first, but as he walked along a bit more quietly now, he felt the rhythm more and more strongly.

He stopped when his hand on the wall felt the pulsing beat as strongly as his feet did and grinned knowingly at the door to Jazz's quarters. He stood quietly for a few minutes letting the vibrations shake his internals and drive away any last vestiges of the silence that had been working its way back into his processor.

His next thought was that the battle must be over if Jazz was in his quarters and not in the command center on monitor duty. That meant someone to talk to.

Bluestreak knocked lightly then felt foolish, Jazz couldn't possibly hear a knock on the door with his music so loud. The door signal probably wouldn't be of anymore use than a knock but he hit the panel anyway. Before he could turn to leave, though, the door slid open.

The gunner staggered back a step as the wall of sound hit him in the face and rattled his doorwings. He dimmed his optics, grinning foolishly, as the blast of music drove every last thought from his mind.

The music faded and Bluestreak brightened his optics and found himself staring into Jazz's curious gaze.

"Um, hi," Bluestreak said.

"Hi, yerself," Jazz chuckled. He crossed his arms over his chest and studied the silver Autobot carefully. "You okay?"

"I...uh...yeah, I'm ok. I heard the music..." Bluestreak shrugged slightly, surprised that he actually didn't know what else to say.

"Oh, man, I'm sorry. Too loud for ya?" Jazz asked, amusement and concern vying for a place on his face.

"No, no. I..uh...actually liked it."

Jazz peered closely at the young Autobot again. "Really," he said, not quite believing Bluestreak.

The silver Datsun nodded. "It's just been...you know...too quiet around here. I know that some of the other guys like peace and quiet but sometimes it just gets a little too quiet...like today." He stared at Jazz like he'd just explained the meaning of life and hoped that Jazz agreed with him.

Jazz leaned out of the door and glanced up and down the deserted corridor. Yep, pretty quiet, all right. His optics fell back onto the gunner's face. He was looking a bit more twitchy than usual, he realized.

Jazz grinned hugely. "C'mon, you," he said grabbing Bluestreak by the arm and dragging him into his room.

Bluestreak looked surprised, then sheepish as he realized the black and white Autobot had seen right through him. "I'm not in your way, or anything, am I?" he asked quietly. "I mean, I wouldn't want to intrude especially if you were doing something important or something..."

Jazz raised a hand to halt the rambling apology. "Never, Blue. Never," Jazz gently reassured him. "But ya came here for a little loud music, right?" Bluestreak nodded. "Great, then loud music we shall have."

Jazz raised the volume of the music, though Bluestreak couldn't quite see how he did it, and the driving bass line started the floor and walls and both 'Bots vibrating.

When Jazz grinned at Bluestreak's astonished expression, it turned into a matching grin. He watched Jazz become immersed in the rhythm of the music. Despite the almost painful loudness of the sound, he felt soothed.

Jazz danced and surreptitiously watched Bluestreak's tense expression soften into that same goofy grin he'd worn when Jazz had first opened the door. Realizing that he was going to be fine for a while, Jazz lost himself in the music as well.

Bluestreak swayed to the beat and watched Jazz abandon himself to the dance steps. Without thinking about it he tried to imitate Jazz's graceful movements but found that his imitation was clumsy and awkward. Embarrassed, he stopped and looked around as if expecting to see Cliffjumper or Sunstreaker pointing and laughing. Nobody was there except Jazz, and Jazz wasn't paying any attention to him. Shaking his head, he tried again and instead of imitating Jazz he just moved to his own inner rhythm.

The music faded out and Bluestreak stopped dancing, feeling a bit overheated from the exertion. Before he could completely cool down, however, the next song started. This time, it was a slow piece, still strongly rhythmic and just as loud as before yet with a languid and peaceful melody. He swayed to the new music without moving his feet.

Jazz suddenly appeared in front of him smiling gently and cocking his head slightly. Bluestreak's puzzled optics met Jazz's visor. Jazz raised his arms in the universal signal of "let's dance" or perhaps it was the human signal, Jazz mused, or maybe it was just the Arthur Murray signal. Jazz didn't know and it wasn't important because Bluestreak seemed to understand the request.

The young 'bot shyly stepped into the circle of Jazz's arms. He laid one arm on Jazz's shoulder and took Jazz's other hand in his but didn't move in close enough to touch Jazz.

Jazz wrapped his free arm around Bluestreak's waist and pulled him into a close embrace. Bluestreak tensed slightly, uncomfortable with the closeness, but then relaxed into Jazz's frame.

They stood this way for a moment gently swaying and trying to catch the beat. Then Jazz led Bluestreak into a simple two-step. They didn't glide around the room like a well-practiced couple. Bluestreak was tense and clumsy, uncomfortable going backwards as Jazz led. The third time he stepped on Jazz's foot, he ground to a halt and tried to pull himself free. Embarrassed, he ducked his head away from Jazz's gaze.

Jazz kept his grip and wouldn't let his partner escape. Still holding him tight about the waist, he let go of Bluestreak's hand and gently clasped his chin and raised his head up so he could look him in the optics. He gave the Datsun a reassuring smile that said, _Don't worry about it_.

Bluestreak's optics widened, _Really?_

_Really, _Jazz's nod seemed to say. He let go of Bluestreak's chin and reclaimed his hand tucking it in tightly between their grills.

Bluestreak sighed softly, relaxing totally and letting his head rest on Jazz's shoulder. Jazz let the music claim him again and this time the pair moved around the room as a single entity.

Jazz glanced down at Bluestreak and noted the shuttered optics and relaxed features. A slight, actually happy, smile touched his partner's lip components. This was an expression Jazz had never seen before. Sure, Blue smiled and laughed as much as any 'bot but there was always a tenseness and wariness to it, an unwillingness to reveal his true emotions. Jazz could understand that, but it was always better to let the barriers down once in a while, something he knew the young gunner never did. Yet here was Bluestreak relaxed and happy, unburdened by whatever memories plagued him.

Watching Bluestreak, he wondered, as he'd wondered many times before, if he and Optimus Prime and Prowl had done the right thing letting the young, inexperienced Bluestreak join the Autobots. Sure they'd needed the bodies and the talent but had it been worth it to ignore Bluestreak's obvious "problems?" He frowned realizing that he just didn't know.

Jazz smiled into the Datsun's youthful face as the music faded. Bluestreak's optics winked on and he stiffened slightly and tried to pull away from Jazz again.

The Porsche shook his head and whispered in the silence between songs, "There's another comin' up."

Bluestreak nodded slightly and relaxed again completely trusting Jazz now. Jazz sighed and as the music started he gently kissed Bluestreak between his chevrons. Bluestreak squeezed Jazz's hand in response and Jazz let the music take them both away.

When the music had ended, Jazz had no idea. A quick survey showed that he was standing in the middle of his quarters, holding a soundly sleeping Bluestreak in his arms and staring into the very amused optics of his mate, Prowl.

"How long have you been standin' there?" he asked quietly.

Prowl glanced from Bluestreak to Jazz and smiled slightly. "Two minutes. How long have you been standing there?"

Jazz chuckled softly. "I have no clue." Jazz shifted Bluestreak slightly and inspected Prowl. "You look like scrap," he commented taking in the scuffed, dirty and tired-looking police car.

"You're supposed to be in the command center," Prowl responded, ignoring Jazz's comment.

"For what? You gave the all clear. Nothin' left fer me to do." He hefted Bluestreak again. "Beside, it was a good thing I was here..."

"That bad?" Prowl asked.

Jazz nodded and sighed. "Did we do the right thing?" he asked. Prowl looked puzzled. "I mean, letting him fight Decepticons?"

"Yes, actually, I do think we did the right thing," Prowl answered promptly and assuredly. Obviously, he'd thought about this before. "I believe he'd be dead now if we hadn't taken him in. He was determined to fight them whether we helped him or not."

"Yer right about that," Jazz agreed quietly.

"Always," Prowl replied with a straight face. Jazz smirked at him and shook his head. The black and white Datsun leaned over and peered into Bluestreak's face. Noting the relaxed expression he told Jazz quietly, "You did well, my love."

Jazz beamed at Prowl. Prowl kissed Jazz gently on the helm and lightly caressed Bluestreak's head, then he turned the music's volume back up.

"Finish the dance," he told Jazz before disappearing into their recharge chamber.

Jazz gazed after the tired second-in-command then back at Bluestreak. I believe that was our last dance, he chuckled to himself and guided the dozing Autobot to his couch before following after Prowl.


End file.
